


Priest!Hashi x Reader

by lotus above mud (frostmoongoddess)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Choking, Church Sex, Dominant Hashirama, F/M, Forgive me father for i have sinny sin sinned, I'm Going to Hell, Lemon, Light Bondage, Priest Hashirama Senju, Priest Kink, Priest Senju Hashirama, Priest!Hashirama, Smut, Vampire Madara Uchiha, Vampire Uchiha Madara, Vampire!Madara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27721513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostmoongoddess/pseuds/lotus%20above%20mud
Summary: There's a reason why atoning for your sins and praying is often done on your knees.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Reader, Uchiha Madara/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 59





	Priest!Hashi x Reader

**Author's Note:**

> so I was _going_ to update _Bloodstained Thread of Fate_ but I stumbled across this BEAUTIFUL art on twitter and one of my moots just HAD to have a priest kink, and it's been occupying my mind ever since. so here we are. will link the picture below.  
> Also, I have no intention of desecrating or offending Catholicism or Christianity as a whole.

* * *

[Priest!Hashirama and Vampire!Madara](https://twitter.com/naylorw6/status/1330552132848803841?s=20). [Priest!Hashirama (colored)](https://twitter.com/naylorw6/status/1331150233267359744?s=20).

* * *

You ran through the storm with the hood of your cloak pulled over your head, the hem blocking the upper half of your vision. The raised heels of your shoes clunked against the cobblestone street, rainwater splashing up with every step and soaking you up to your knees. You kept your head down, eyes glued to the dark outlines of the curved stone tessellations. You walked at a brisk pace, and one wrong step could cause you to slip and fall. But you were in a rush.

Your hand trailed to your neck, and you were still convinced it had to be a dream. Some bizarre, unshakeable mirage. 

The last thing you remembered was waking up, completely naked. The first thing you did was bury your face in your hands and cry as the heavy rain poured outside. You abhorred yourself. With a terrible guilt wracking your entire soul, you got dressed. You grabbed your precious rosary and knelt before the cross on the fireplace mantle, pressing the cross to your lips. But it wasn’t enough. You stared up at the crucifix with teary eyes. There was only one place you could go now. 

Just last year, a notoriously handsome deacon had ascended to priest. You remembered watching the rite take place, seeing the bronzed Hashirama Senju clad in holy white. His hair was short then, but as the year went on, that silky, dark hair grew (and with it, his ethereal beauty) and spilled down his back. 

His presence alone seemed to draw in the entire diocese. You recalled during one service just last week when a few women were whispering when Father Senju stepped out. You couldn’t even bring yourself to recall the sinful, tainted comments they made.

You knew that Father Senju was the only cathedral personnel to work at night. You heard from countless people of Father Senju’s pious magnanimity being available at all hours of the day. You wondered if he ever slept. 

You ascended the steps to the three grand portals of the cathedral. The statues seemed to all frown down on you, knowing of the corrupting dream you just had. You pushed open the heavy doors of the central portal. You could barely push it open wide enough to squeeze yourself through. The door clunked shut as you drew your hood down. The pitter-patter of the heavy rain drastically quieted down, creating a faint white noise. The nave opened up before her, but the only light in the cathedral was up ahead on the altar in the chancel. 

You stood in the narthex for a moment, hearing your own breath echo among the grand beams and arches overhead. For a moment, you even forgot about the only other person in the entire cathedral. 

You then walked forward down the central aisle, your heels clunking against the polished marble of the floor. You stopped some rows behind the figure in the front pew, noticing the familiar black cassock and stole. You also saw their long, dark hair down their back. Your heart raced. It was indeed Father Senju. You performed the cross over your chest and face and clasped your hands together. 

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you spoke up, your faint speaking echoing. 

He raised his head to stare straight ahead at the altar with the grand golden cross and various statuettes front and center, bathing in the only light shining in the whole cathedral. He then looked over his shoulder.

He had such a gentle expression. A face of warmth and love. He had the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.

“Come, sit,” he ordered, gesturing to the plenty of empty space to his right. 

“Thank you, Father,” you said, though you were confused. This was not proper. What of the confessional? Still, you obeyed. “This is my first confession with you. These are my sins…” 

In that moment, the memories of what happened earlier that evening came rushing back and the words tumbled out of your mouth. 

You recounted being in your house, preparing for bed. You sensed something was wrong, but you thought nothing of it. When you entered your bedroom, you saw a man with messy, raven hair sitting in your chair. Lightning from outside filled the room in pure white light for a split second.

He had red glowing eyes and deathly pale skin. The door behind you closed on its own, and you were powerless as the man stood up, his black shirt and frilled cravat becoming more prominent in the candlelight. You remembered him stepping towards you, but you couldn’t stop staring into his _“beautiful red eyes,”_ as you put it.

You recounted to Father Senju the man lifting your chin with a finger, his razor-sharp nails digging into the soft skin just behind the bone of the protuberance. You remembered him drawing that finger close to his lips, and he opened his mouth, his tongue snaking out to lick droplets of blood from his fingertip. You caught a flash of his teeth, but you couldn’t make much out before he buried his face into your neck, his hands wrapping around you and tangling into your hair. 

But it was all wrong. You were pure, untouched. You were devout, and you were allowing this strange man to touch you? Yet the fiery hot passion seared through your veins. You leaned your head back and let out an unholy moan. 

You couldn’t remember anything after that. One moment you were being pressed against your bedroom door, the next you awoke in your own bed, completely undressed, with the man standing over you. He was putting on his luxurious shirt, covering the pale bulging muscles of his chest, abdomen, and arms. He gave you a sinister smirk, and you caught the elongated sharp canines — his fangs. He picked up his coat from the edge of your bed and spun it over his shoulders. In that action, he disappeared in a puff of black smoke right as a peal of thunder shook the heavens. 

You recalled your hands going to your neck, but the skin was still smooth and unbroken. You rushed to the mirror of your vanity table and stretched your head. Nothing. You even lifted your head up and ran your fingers beneath your chin. Unscathed. Your body still seemed clean and untouched, but what of that man? Had it truly been a dream? A sinful, salacious dream with a demon? 

You voiced these concerns before concluding your confession.

“This is all I can remember,” you told him. Tears ran down your face. You were so disgusted with yourself and so embarrassed that you had such a vision. And that you confessed it to holy Father Senju. “I am truly sorry for this and all my sins.”

A deathly silence filled the cathedral, broken only by the muted falling rain and the occasional rumbling of thunder. You waited for Father Senju to deliver you a penance. You could feel your face burning. You couldn’t even remember exactly what you said. What if you had said something that made it sound like you indulged in such debauchery? And to Father Senju, of all people. 

“Is that truly all you wish to confess?” he asked softly but sternly.

“Yes, Father,” you responded. 

Beside you, he stood up. His towering stature made you feel as though you were staring up at God himself. He took a few steps forward, and you felt your heart sink. Was he truly that disgusted with you? Were you too far gone from the path of salvation? 

“You are lucky that you confessed before this grand altar, this sacred stage of the Lord rather than in the shadows of the box,” Father Senju began, his back to you. You couldn’t help but stare at his dark hair. Smooth and sleek, unlike the raven mess of the incubus that attacked you. “You might not know it, but your sins are much more than your confession. Fear not, for I can assign you your penance here and now. You will be absolved of your great sins before God himself.”

“Oh, thank you, Father!” you exclaimed with joy, clasping your hands together over your chest. “I will do anything!”

Father Senju raised his head to gaze up at the doming ceiling above the chancel. You held your breath, watching the beautifully sculpted angles and curves of his heavenly face. 

“Kneel,” he ordered. “And begin the Act of Contrition as I will guide you in your penance.”

You did so immediately. You pushed yourself forward off of the pew, your knees meeting the cold, hard floor. You closed your eyes and held your hands together in prayer. Yet the prayer never came to mind despite the years of memorization. Your heart raced, the blood roaring in your ears and only made louder with the deafening silence in the empty cathedral. You could hear Father Senju take some steps towards you, coupled with the rustling of the fine fabrics of his robes. 

“Out loud,” he reminded sternly. “Your sins are too great for you to keep to yourself.”

You gulped. How did it begin again? You furrowed your brows together and tilted your head down. 

“If you don’t remember, I am more than eager to assist,” Father Senju offered. _“O, my God…”_

Keeping your eyes closed, you raised your head again, the rest of the prayer following naturally. You parted your lips to start the prayer, but you felt rough, warm hands pressed against your cheeks and something large and oblong plunge into your mouth, pushing all the way to the back of your throat.

Your eyes flung open, finding yourself staring at the clothed abdomen of Father Hashirama Senju. His cassock had been undone from the waist down, and his pants unbuckled to reveal only his erect member, now pushed inside your mouth. You were too stunned from the act alone to do anything, much less move.

Father Senju then began to move his hips away and towards your face. You winced and tried to push him away, but one of his massive hands found its way to the back of your hand, gripping your hair and holding fast. You gagged as he continued to relentlessly thrust into your mouth. Tears streamed down your face, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the shame or from the gag reflex.

You told yourself that someone as saintly as Father Senju must have his reason for committing such adultery. After all, he did say this was your penance, right? And if this was the famed young priest himself, then surely this treatment was a blessing.

So you aimed your eyes up at Father Senju looming over you as he continued to thrust himself deeper and deeper down your throat. Your jaw ached at how wide you had to hold it open from his incredible girth, and you resisted the urge to push him away and take a deep breath. When your eyes met his, he tilted back his head and let out a breathy sigh of ecstasy. You felt something deep inside you tighten. Your walls clenched at such a magnificent sound. You wanted more from him.

But that was a sin. You couldn’t want anything from him. No, only Father Senju had the power to desire. You felt even more ashamed of yourself craving such carnal pleasure. 

No, this was your penance, but you were more than eager to receive it. If you obeyed Father Senju, surely you would be forgiven in the eyes of God. 

After Father Senju abused your mouth and throat, he pulled out and a trail of your saliva stretched between your lips and his throbbing cock. 

The hand in your hair yanked up, and your body followed instinctively, your legs straightening as you stood up. Father Senju then grabbed the low square neckline of your dress and gave a violent tug, your breasts spilling out as the fabric ripped completely down your torso. He placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you onto the pews. Just as you had envisioned the vampiric incubus and described to him, Father Senju buried his face into the side of your neck, his lips tugging at the soft skin. The pleasure seared through your body. You didn’t know when but your cloak had come off, spilling onto and over the back of the pew behind you. Your back arched into Father Senju’s. He rested his knee against the very edge of the bench, right between your legs, pinning you beneath him. You could only wriggle and squirm against his broad torso. Without thinking you placed your hands against his back, feeling the toned musculature beneath the dark fabric. You almost drew away, afraid of retribution for touching Father Senju out of place, but he nipped at your neck harder, causing you to hold onto him even tighter as your mouth parted open and a sinful, passionate moan escaped your lips and echoed through the empty cathedral walls. 

His kisses then dragged down to your torso, his hands continuing to peel off your torn dress until your womanhood was left exposed to the cold air. He momentarily groped your breasts before he began to suck on one of them while one hand carried on its sensual massage of the other. You closed your eyes as the waves of bliss rippled throughout your body. You felt his tongue flick over your hardened nipple. When his other hand trailed down the side of your waist, you felt a thousand sparks light up inside you. 

By now, you were completely topless; the sleeves of your dress fell away when your dress had split down to the waistline. His free hand pulled at the skirt still clinging to your body at your hips, causing you to slide slightly forward. Your tattered dress slumped to the floor as Father Senju knelt between your legs, his breath hot against your stomach and womanhood as he made his descent. 

You felt his fingers trace along the folds of your labia, and your entire body trembled. The soft current of air as he breathed stimulated you to no end. Your blood had been set alight with hellfire. Your tainted body craved his purifying grace. 

“P-please, Father…!” you exclaimed breathlessly. 

Wordlessly, he grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs forward. His hot tongue pressed against your dripping womanhood. You threw your head back as the warm ecstasy raced up your body, your loud moan filling the cathedral air. You never knew it was possible to feel such pleasure. 

Father Senju’s tongue alternated between wide lapping and narrowed circling of your swollen bud. He squeezed your thighs tightly, and whenever you tried to close your legs, he’d pry them apart. Your whole body quivered from the euphoria of his tongue tracing scripture against your clit. A knot began to form in your stomach as he continued to lick. You instinctively grabbed his head and pressed it closer to your womanhood, feeling that knot inside you swell and tighten. His tongue began smaller, rapid flicking motions against your engorged clit, and your legs shook as the warmth of pleasure filled your entire lower half. 

The moment that knot inside you snapped, your thighs pressed against the sides of Father Senju’s head and your body bucked uncontrollably. The orgasm he bestowed upon you was a glimpse of Heaven, and his tongue continued to drive you insane from the bliss. Your hand pressed against his forehead and pushed him away, unable to handle the earth-shattering orgasm still devastating your body. 

But Father Senju was not done yet. 

“You are still nested with sin, my dear,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically gruff. Almost a growl.

He stood up, but his hands still held your thighs to prevent you from sliding off the edge of the pew, placing your legs on his shoulders. You felt the warmth of his massive shaft press and slide against your wet womanhood and still-sensitive clit. 

“Bless me, Father…!” you begged between breathy moans, bucking your hips up. You needed his salvation. 

With that, you felt the tip of his member begin to split you apart. You winced out of both pain and pleasure as he continued to slowly push inside you.

After a few moments had passed, he gave a single, smooth thrust, and the rest of his massive cock slid all the way inside you. You let out a loud cry as his head leaned back, his brows furrowing together from the concentrative pleasure. You watched as he ripped off the white collar around his neck, allowing the thin fabric to float to the ground. He then grabbed the buttoned midline of his cossack and tore it open, allowing the sacred black to fall off his shoulders. 

Indeed, Father Hashirama Senju was a gift from God himself, delivered by an angel. His tanned and toned physique was sculpted to the heavens, blessing your eyes. Both of you were completely naked now in this front pew of the grand cathedral like Adam and Eve before God in the Garden of Eden. 

Father Senju’s hips pulled away, and when he thrust all the way back into you, you instinctively let out a yelp. He quickly grabbed your face with a single hand, your lips pouting out as he leaned over and growled, “Not too loud, love.”

He then placed his hand over your mouth as his thrusts resumed, your moans restrained beneath the palm of his hand. Your body began moving in tandem with his, your hips bucking synchronously with his ramming. His pulverizing cock filled you more than before, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as both of his hands gripped your hips and his pace intensified. You slapped your hand over your mouth to keep from screaming. Your muffled moans, the slapping of your bare skin against his, and his heavy breathing filled the vaulted cathedral. 

Suddenly, Father Senju pulled out, and you felt a bizarre emptiness where he had carved out his path. He grabbed your arm, forcing you to your feet. He pushed his hand against your back, forcing you to bend over. He grabbed your arms and pulled them behind your back, your forearms overlapping and your elbows in the palms of the opposite arms’ hands. You looked over your shoulder to see Father Senju use the stole he had discarded to tie your arms together behind your back. He wrapped the fabric rather snugly, to the point you couldn’t really move your arms save for at the shoulder but not so tight that you would lose circulation. 

You felt his rough hands against your waist again as he shoved his massive shaft inside you from behind. You arched your back, your shoulders hunching from the new sensations that numbed your legs. 

Something caused your head to jerk upwards. You felt your scalp ache as Father Senju grabbed your hair with one hand. 

“Not that way, dear.” His voice was immensely strained, as if he spoke through clenched teeth. 

His thrusts resumed again, and you let out a wailing moan from the pleasure that filled your walls and reverberated throughout your body. You felt your head bow towards the ground again, but Father Senju pulled your hair.

“Look at the crucifix,” he ordered in a throaty growl. He yanked a fistful over your hair when you tried to look away. “Look at it! The Lord is looking down on you, you filthy _sinner!”_

His next thrust went deeper than before. You let out a crying moan, but Father Senju’s grip would not waver. Through tears from pain and pleasure, you stared at the golden cross.

“You think you can come into a place of worship, _my cathedral_ , and confess such debauchery, you whore?” he snarled, and you could only respond with the guttural moans as he pounded into you. “This is your penance! Repeat after me!”

 _‘Please, no, I can’t!’_ You so desperately wanted to scream, but the moans erupting from your chest caused by his brutal ramming prevented the words from ever forming. 

_“O, my God,”_ he began, his voice deadly low.

“Oh…! My God…!” you repeated, but your mind was far too wracked with the scorching pleasure rather than the refreshing prayer; these were words bursting from your enraptured soul.

 _“I am_ heartily — ” he thrust especially deep here, forcing a deep moan from you. “ — _sorry for having offended Thee.”_

“I — I am — ” you gasped between yelps and cries. “I am heartily s-sorry — ”

But the unfortunate reality was, you weren’t sorry. You were nested with filthy sin, and it led you to this revolutionizing experience with Father Senju. You wanted him to fill you with his sacred seed. You wanted him to demolish the demons inside you. You wanted him to give you this Heaven forever. 

You felt his hands leave your body, but his hips continued to ram against your ass. With the slackening of your hair, your head fell forward. Your fallen hair dangled in front of your face, flowing in waves like that of the water stream of a wagged hose as Father Senju pounded into your without even needing to grip your waist. 

You noted his weakening intensity and pace, and without thinking, you moved your legs in order to sway back and forth with his cock still inside you. 

From behind you, Father Senju let out a gasp of a moan — nothing like the deep growls he had been uttering before. It sent electricity down your spine, and your walls clenched around the massive cock prying them apart. He let out a more audible groan as you rocked yourself against him. 

_“I detest all my sins...”_ he continued to recite, but you could hear him speaking through his teeth. You heard the soft clattering of beads. 

_“...because of Thy_ just _punishments…!”_

All of a sudden you felt something thin wrap around your neck. It yanked your head up and back, much like Father Senju’s treatment of your hair, but this was different. This material was not uniform like rope. Bits of it dug into the skin of your neck and your throat. You so desperately wanted to claw at whatever was choking you, but your arms were still tightly bound behind your back. Father Senju pulled his beaded reigns, forcing you to arch your back and your eyes staring up at the domed ceiling high above the altar. 

You could still breathe, but barely. You felt a pressure build up inside your head, your face scorching. Combined with Father Senju’s deep and powerful thrusting into the tight walls of your womanhood, you could only moan, the lustful sounds bouncing among the polished stone walls. 

“You’re not repeating after me!” Father Senju hissed. 

One of his hands went to your face. His fingers made their way along the inside of your open lips, hooking and grasping the side of your mouth. Your moans turned more guttural and throaty as he slammed himself deeper and faster into you. He made you the new choir of the cathedral with his organ. 

The beaded rope around your neck tightened, and in that moment you realized that he had twisted his rosary around your neck. The realization sent a hot ripple of excitement through your body, causing to clench around his intoxicatingly destructive member. You heard Father Senju groan, his husky voice joining yours in the echoes around the sacred hall. 

Out of the blue, his pace quickened, ramming your cervix to the point where you could not bear it. Your moans turned into a long, sustained scream and the clapping of his abdomen against your ass filled your ears. 

You gasped as you felt Father Senju completely retract himself from your battered pussy, his hand leaving your mouth. You felt something hot against your lower back, and it was throbbing. Then, you felt something liquid and warm against your skin. Father Senju let out a breathy moan, and the tension in the rosary around your neck slackened. Without his support, your numb legs collapsed beneath you, and you started to fall forward. Luckily, Father Senju caught you, his strong arms wrapping around you and placing you down onto your knees. He untied his stole from around your arms, and you used your freed hands to keep yourself upright. 

Father Senju placed his hand underneath your chin, forcing you to look upon. Your eyes slowly trailed up his toned legs, his bulky thighs, his carved torso, and finally, his radiant face. The light from the dome over the chancel gave him a golden, heavenly aura. 

He then leaned towards you until your faces were inches apart. You could feel his rapid, heavy panting, the gusts causing some stray hairs that had fallen in front of your eyes to fly apart. 

“Your sins have been forgiven, my dear,” he purred, his lips gently curving upwards into a warm smile. “I’ll see you at your next confession.”

With that, he gathered his fallen vestments, bundling them underneath his arms. He took your cloak still draped over the pew and threw it onto you. Your hands clenched over your chest, and you realized you still had on his precious rosary. You began to pull the gold-encrusted chain over your head, but you felt his hands dragging your arms down.

“Keep it for next time,” he suggested. One of his massive paws went to your neck, his finger tracing across it. You could feel his finger quickly dip down and up again as it glided across the surface of your skin — the imprints of the beads. 

The air turned cold as he drew his hand away. You watched helplessly as he turned around, his muscular buttocks another sight to behold, and walked off into the shadows of the apse. 

You held the cross of the rosary in your hand, staring at it. You brought it to your lips and closed your eyes, imagining it to be Father Senju’s lips. As you dragged yourself to your feet, you found strength in his parting words.

 _‘Next confession…’_ you recalled. _‘Next time…’_

When you walked home that night, out into the rain, you only had your cloak on. The torn dress was under your arm. You were keeping that as another memento, too. You made up your mind then, in the dark and stormy walk back: you were going to all your private confessions with Father Senju in only your cloak. You squeezed the cross dangling over your chest and smiled. 

**Author's Note:**

> if there is a hell, i'll be sure to save you all a seat on satan's throbbing red monster cock <3


End file.
